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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28625577">Ride It</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thorn_Rose/pseuds/Thorn_Rose'>Thorn_Rose</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>MadaTobi :D [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Naruto</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Hashirama's a vet here, Madara as an equestrian, Modern AU, Tobi thirsty, Tobirama envies the horse, WHITE HORSES ARENT A THING, because guys who ride horses hit different, i just live for tobirama being the bold one, its a fact, riding clothes are TIGHT, tobirama appreciates them</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-20 12:29:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,814</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28625577</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thorn_Rose/pseuds/Thorn_Rose</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Madara is an equestrian who rides fancy, expensive horses</p><p>Tobirama would rather he ride him instead</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Senju Tobirama/Uchiha Madara</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>MadaTobi :D [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2087394</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>116</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>~*~*~</p><p>Tobirama glared out the window of the car, arms crossed and definitely not pouting. </p><p>“Oh, come on, Tobirama,” Hashirama said with a grin, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, driving way too fast. “You haven’t seen Madara in years!” </p><p>“18, to be exact,” Tobirama growled. And he had no inclination to see him again. Granted, last time he saw the Uchiha, he had been like… 6 or something. He hadn’t liked him then, and he doubted he’d like him now. </p><p>“Be nice,” Hashirama scolded. “Madara’s only in the country for a few weeks. This is an emergency.” </p><p>“Since when was Madara into horse riding anyway?” Tobirama complained, snorting. Hashirama gave him a weird look. </p><p>“Um, since always? The Uchiha have always been a very prominent name in the equestrian world.” </p><p>“Whatever.” Whatever. It wasn’t that he didn’t like horses. He just didn’t love them. They were just...animals. He didn’t see the appeal. </p><p>“Tobirama,” Hashirama said seriously. “I haven’t seen Madara since he moved to Europe. Please, don’t make him mad at me for bringing you.” </p><p>“It’d be your fault.” </p><p>Hashirama pouted, but Tobirama didn’t feel guilty. He’d rather be at home, working on his research project or sitting with a good book, than here, at some big fancy show jumping event. Even if it was an ‘olympic qualifier’. </p><p>Lost in his angry, self-pitying thoughts, Tobirama barely noticed when the traffic grew heavier, slower. After an eternity, Hashirama parked in a stuffed parking lot, reaching into the back seat and hauling out his emergency kit. </p><p>“Come on!” his brother said cheerfully, hopping out of the car. Tobirama grumbled, but slowly plodded after him, dragging his feet to show his displeasure. Hashirama was utterly unbothered, weaving through the heavy crowd of people. Seriously, why were so many people here? Yesh, crazy idiots. It wasn’t that cool. </p><p>After several minutes, they reached the barrier between the commoners and the elite. Ha. Or in other words, the people here to watch and the people here to compete. Security let them in as soon as Hashirama told them his name, and they were pointed in the right direction. </p><p>Hashirama walked so quickly that Tobirama actually had to hurry to keep up. As much as he didn’t want to be here, he even more didn’t want to be alone here. It didn’t take long for Hashirama to find what he was looking for. </p><p>“MADARAAAAAAA!” his brother yelled, causing everyone around them to startle and stare. Dammit Hashirama. </p><p>The person Hashirama had spotted and called for froze mid-step, whirling around and….damn. Tobirama would see the appeal to the sport. </p><p>Madara Uchiha looked...well. Good. He had grown nicely, tall and lean. His hair was long and wild, spiky and sticking up every direction, it’s tips nearly touching his waist. And his clothes…. Let’s just say they hugged around well formed thighs, arms. Black boots hid his calves, but left little to the imagination with the way they curved to enfold the muscles there. His eyes were as dark and slanted as he remembered. But his face was so different. His features were sharp, chiseled. Perfectly shaped eyebrows, slender nose, soft lips….</p><p>Hashirama grabbing Madara and lifting him off his feet yanked Tobirama from his thoughts, and he instantly berated himself for them. Madara squirmed in Hashirama’s grip, cursing and shoving at him. So, he may be pretty, but he still had that ugly personality of his. </p><p>“Dammit, Senju, let go!” Madara was half screeching, like the little demon cat he was. Hashirama sniffed, finally putting Madara back down. His brother looked tall compared to the Uchiha, standing nearly a head over him. Which meant…</p><p>He drew closer slowly, and Madara’s dark eyes turned to him. Aha, he was right! The Uchiha was shorter than him, by almost half a head. That made him feel far more smug than it should. </p><p>“Tobirama?” Madara said, surprised. His dark eyes flicked down, then back up. “You’ve...uh. Grown.” </p><p>“Time tends to do that,” Tobirama said dryly. Madara raised an eyebrow. </p><p>“Right. Anyway. Coming, Hashirama?” </p><p>“Lead the way,” his brother said, picking up the kit he had dropped at sometime. Madara spun on his heel, striding through the convoluted mess of horses and people, clearly with a destination in mind. Hashirama and Tobirama hurried after him, avoiding the many bodies.</p><p>Madara finally stopped outside a low, squat barn looking thing. “He doesn’t like strangers,” he warned, opening the doors and stepping inside. Tobirama blinked rapidly a few times, letting his eyes adjust to the dimmer light. A dozen or so stalls lined the wide hallway to the right, and Madara turned left. </p><p>Standing in the cross-ties was a white horse. A very big one. Madara’s head didn’t even reach its back. Its ear flicked back as they approached. </p><p>“Stop it, Kalipso,” Madara scolded, scratching the horses forehead. </p><p>“His right foreleg, you said?” Hashirama asked, setting his kit on a nearby bench and opening it up. Madara nodded, slender fingers wrapping around the horses halter. </p><p>“It swelled up yesterday. I’ve been ice compressing it, and it helps, but I thought I should get an expert opinion before the competition.” </p><p>Hashirama visibly preened. “Well, let’s not keep him waiting,” he said, sanitizing his hands and stepping closer. He crouched down next to the horses front leg, carefully wrapping his hands around it. He poked and prodded for a while. </p><p>Tobirama watched, leaning against the wall and having absolutely no clue or interest in what was happening. Madara glanced back at him, and smiled just a little. </p><p>“Beautiful, isn’t he?” he asked, voice thick with pride. The horse nudged its nose against his chest. </p><p>“I guess,” he said with a shrug. “It’s very...white.” Madara snorted. </p><p>“He,” Madara corrected. “Is GREY, actually.” Tobirama squinted at him. </p><p>“White.” </p><p>“Grey.” </p><p>Was this man colourblind? “He is very obviously white.” </p><p>“He is very obviously grey.” </p><p>“Are you blind? He’s white!” </p><p>“There’s no such thing as a white horse.” </p><p>Clearly, Madara had been kicked in the head. “There is. I’m looking right at one.” </p><p>“No, you’re looking at a grey horse.” Madara’s voice turned mocking, and Tobirama glared. “Seriously, Senju. Horses can’t be white. They can be such a light grey that they appear white. But there is no such thing as a white horse. When Kalipso was born, he was almost black. Lots of dark horses lighten as they get older.” </p><p>“What if they're black and white?” he asked, remembering seeing some spotted horses before.</p><p>“Like a paint? A pinto? Piebald? Horses can have white colouring, sure. But a solidly ‘white’ horse is actually grey.” </p><p>“He’s right, you know,” Hashirama said, still kneeling with his hands around the horse's leg. Ankle? Did horses have ankles?  “It’s true.” </p><p>Tobirama snorted. “Whatever.” </p><p>Madara smirked, fingers absentmindedly scratching the horses forehead. “You wanna pet him?” </p><p>“No.” </p><p>“Come on.” </p><p>“No.” </p><p>“He won’t bite. He’s friendly.” Madara’s dark eyes glinted with mischief. “Kind of.” With a snort, Tobirama pushed himself off the wall, walking slowly toward them. He did kind of want to pet it. </p><p>Madara reached out as he came closer, taking his hand. Tobirama jerked, freezing. Madara didn’t seem to notice. “Let him smell you first,” he said, tugging Tobirama’s hand forward and holding it under the horse's nose. His palms were calloused, rough with work, but still so….small.  Dainty, somehow. </p><p>Hot breath blew against his hand, and he watched the horse press its nose against his hand. Whatever it was doing, it seemed satisfied, because it turned away a moment later, uninterested. “Good. Go ahead, then.” </p><p>Madara guided him forward, moving his hand and pressing it against the horse's neck. Tobirama was surprised at how firm it was, hard with bulging muscle under soft fur. Madara took his own hand away, and Tobirama stroked the horse's neck. It was so warm…</p><p>“Well,” Hashirama said, finally standing. Madara’s eyes snapped to him. “You’re safe to go, Madara. Ice him before going into the ring, and immediately after. You can compete today.” </p><p>“Yeah, but should I?” Madara pressed. Tobirama stared at him for a minute. “Are you sure that he won’t be hurt further?” He was more worried about the horse’s wellbeing than winning, Tobirama realized. The thought made him smile, just a little. So there was some kindness under all that angry. </p><p>“He’ll be fine, Madara,” Hashirama soothed. “It’s not a sprain, or even a strain. It’s just a little tired, that’s all. Give him about 2 weeks off after and he’ll be right as rain. You two have been training for this for years. You can’t turn away now.” </p><p>“You think I want to?” Madara asked, reaching up to scratch the horse's ears. He obligingly lowered his head to give him more access. Sucks to be short. “Are you absolutely positive he’ll be okay?”</p><p>“YES. You wanted an expert's opinion, you got one. Stop doubting me.” Hashirama pouted, and Madara smiled. </p><p>“Still haven’t lost your depressive episodes, eh? After I win, let’s get some drinks.” </p><p>Hashirama immediately brightened. “Yes! It’s been ages.” </p><p>“You should really come see me in Holland sometime,” Madara added. “It’s not fair that I always have to come.” </p><p>Hashirama just laughed, turning to close his kit. Madara glanced at the time. “I’m in the ring in 15 minutes,” he said. His grin turned sly. “You want back stage seats?” </p><p>“Obviously.” </p><p>“Great. Kinna here will take you.” He waved a hand, flagging down a young teenage girl trotting down the hall. </p><p>“I’ll take good care of them!” she promised, with a huge smile. Madara chuckled, tousling her hair. </p><p>“Kinna is training under me,” he explained. “She has some high, high hopes to become an Olympic showjumper.” </p><p>“I can do it!” she said determinedly. </p><p>“Good attitude,” Madara approved. “Now, run along. I have to get Kalipso ready.”</p><p>“Please, follow me,” Kinna said, beckoning to them. </p><p>“Come on, Tobi,” Hashirama said, bounding after her. Tobirama followed a little slower, glancing over his shoulder and seeing Madara watching after them. Their eyes met for a moment, and then Madara turned away, but not before Tobirama caught the slight reddening of his cheeks. </p><p>Huh. Interesting. </p><p>Kinna and Hashirama kept up a steady stream of chatter as they walked, heading past the main seating area. They ended up on a large hill, from where they could see most of the course. It was huge; at most parts, they’d barely be able to see horse and rider. But right in front of them was a wide jump over a pool of water. </p><p>The minutes ticked by. They were too far away to hear the announcers voice, but Kinna loyally started giving them the run down. “Ohhhh, there they are!” she squealed, pointing. On the far end of the course moved a little white blob. </p><p>Grey blob. </p><p>Kalipso cleared the first jump with ease, and they made their way around the course. “Speed is key,” Kinna was saying, “but so is talent. The fastest team wins, but penalties are added if they knock down a pole on a jump. The penalties come as time reductions. So you can be super fast, but if you hit every jump, you’ll never win.” </p><p>“Does Madara hit them alot?” he found himself asking, watching closely as Kalipso sailed over another fence. </p><p>“Barely. He and Kalipso are an awesome team. International champions, you know. That’s why they’re here. Only the best qualify for this competition. And the best of the best go on to compete in the Olympics.” </p><p>Tobirama hummed in reply. They were fast, he noted. It was almost mesmerizing, the way the horse ran, head up, ears pricked, champing at the bit. Madara moved seamlessly with him, like they were the same body. They were in perfect harmony. It was almost beautiful. </p><p>It took a few minutes, but they finally neared the end of the course, which lay beneath them. “Ohhh, this part,” Kinna said. “Kalipso is scared of water jumps. He almost always hesitates. Watch, watch.” </p><p>Despite himself, Tobirama leaned a little further down. The jump was fast approaching. Tobirama may not know anything about horses, but he was observant. He had seen how eager Kalipso had approached the other jumps, ears up and pace quickening. </p><p>Now, he slowed, ears flicking back to point towards Madara. They were close enough that he could see Madara’s lips moving, and the tiny movement of his heels, poking the horses' sides encouragingly. Kalipso gathered himself, and flew over the water with far too much enthusiasm and ease. </p><p>Tobirama stared, fascinated, as they jumped, watching how Madara stood in the saddle, leaning over the horse's neck, hands moving along it to give him more rein. He most definitely wasn’t looking at how his riding pants hugged his legs, how the fancy jacket highlighted his form. Or how surprisingly good he looked with his wild hair swept into a ponytail, kept in place with a simple black helmet. </p><p>Kinna laughed in delight as they entered the home stretch. “Kalipso always overshoots the water, no matter how tired he is. He clears it with plenty of space to spare.” </p><p>Whatever more she and Hashirama talked about was lost to him. He watched them fly over the last fence. It was tall, taller than most of the others. Kalipso’s front hoof clipped the top pole. It wobbled unsteadily. Kinna gasped sharply, and Madara’s head turned, looking back over his shoulder as Kalipso landed. </p><p>The pole wobbled, swayed….and stayed in place. </p><p>The grin that spread over Madara’s face was breathtaking. He let go of the reins, grabbing his horse’s mane and leaning down to press his forehead against his neck. The watching audience was cheering as they slowed to a steady trot. </p><p>“That was almost perfect!” Kinna was screeching. “They have the top score, look!” She pointed to the rankings board, but Tobirama didn’t follow her point. He was watching Madara as he urged the horse to walk. Smile still in place, horse and rider disappeared back. </p><p>“Let’s go!” Kinna said, all but sprinting down the hill. </p><p>“Hey, wait!” Hashirama yelped, hurrying after her. Shaking his head, Tobirama followed, at a much more leisurely pace. </p><p>~*~*~</p><p>Madara won. Because of course he did. No other reason. </p><p>They went back with him to the barn, where he unsaddled and wiped Kalipso down. His hair was still in a ponytail, but he had shed the eventing jacket, letting Tobirama appreciate the way his shirt clung to his body. </p><p>In the midst of making plans to get drinks that night, Hashirama turned comically pale. “I left my kit back there!” he yelped, hands patting himself down like that would make it magically reappear. </p><p>“I’ll take you back,” Kina offered. “And if it’s not there it might be in the lost and found.” </p><p>Without further adieu, the two of them were off, leaving Madara and Tobirama and Kalipso. “You know, you should come with Hashirama when he visits,” Madara said, setting down his grooming supplies and picking up what looked like a hairbrush. “There’s some neat things to see. Maybe I’ll let you take one of my horses out for a ride.” </p><p>‘I’d rather you ride me,’ Tobirama thought, glancing down at Madara’s hands. The brush abruptly slipped from his fingers, which froze. Tobirama frowned, looking up. Madara’s eyes were wide, and his cheeks flushing red. </p><p>“Did I say that outloud?” he asked, staring. Madara made a sound like a dying mouse, and nodded. “Oh.” His frown deepened, and he crouched to pick up the brush. “I mean, the offer stands,” he said, digging his grave even deeper because why not. “Unless you’re opposed. Then I’ll respect that.”</p><p>Madara gawked at him, turning impossibly redder. “Not opposed,” he managed to squeak out. That was interesting. Tobirama tilted his head, eyeing him. Now that he thought about it… Would the Uchiha get the same concentrated expression if he were on top of him? If he looked good above him, how would he look beneath him? The picture his brain helpfully conjured up had heat pooling in his gut. </p><p>“Is that so,” he muttered, taking a step closer and inwardly cheering, again, at their height difference. Madara had to tilt his neck to look him in the eye. “Tonight,” he said, reaching up to brush a strand of hair out of his bangs. “After a couple drinks, you’ll claim some soreness and tiredness after your competition. I’ll say I have work to do, and I’ll offer to take you home. You’ll say yes. We’ll go back to wherever you’re staying, and you can ride me.” </p><p>He watched with amusement as the blush spread, setting his fingers under Madara’s chin and leaning in. “Sound good?” </p><p>“Yes,” Madara half whispered, half squeaked. Tobirama grinned, pressing the brush into Madara’s hands. While his fingers fumbled, distracted, Tobirama leaned in and kissed him. </p><p>Ohh, this was going to be fun.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. RIDE IT</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>I wrote this instead of studying for an exam that's in two days. *sigh*</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>~*~*~</p>
<p>They all gathered together at a local sports bar not far from the Senju household. Sitting in a booth with Hashirama, Tobirama thought he might actually die. </p>
<p>He had thought Madara looked good in riding clothes. </p>
<p>Now he had to deal with this? For at least a few hours? </p>
<p>When Madara strolled up to their booth, Tobirama very nearly choked on his drink. The Uchiha looked….delectable. His wild hair was swept into a high ponytail, the shorter strands escaping rebelliously to frame his face. He was wearing a shirt that was so dark purple it could have passed for black, short sleeved and having a dangerously low v-cut that exposed way more flesh and collarbone than appropriate. A light, dark grey jacket was tied around his waist, drawing attention to long, appealing legs clothed in black skinny jeans. </p>
<p>Ripped skinny jeans. That exposed enticing flashes of pale skin. And holy, was that an eyebrow piercing? It was! </p>
<p>‘I’m going to die,’ Tobirama thought in dismay as Madara slipped into the seat beside Hashirama, across the table from him. The Uchiha caught his eye, and winked, slow and sultry. Tobirama took another sip of his drink, firmly looking away. Hashirama, thankfully, immediately launched into a conversation, and Tobirama was grateful. </p>
<p>Madara’s attention was soon entirely focussed on the older Senju, one hand lazily swirling the straw of his drink and the other propping up his chin, dark eyes fixed on his best friend. Tobirama only listened with half an ear, trying not to stare at the pale expanse of Madara’s neck, or be distracted by the way his eyebrow piercing flashed when he moved his head just so, while he and Hashirama talked about the older Senju’s practice and clinic and clients, catching up after all this time. While he normally kept a tight check on what kinds of….thoughts, he was having in public, he had no shame in daydreaming, imagining, scheming-</p>
<p>“-and Tobirama will be finishing up his research project that will be giving him a position at one of the countries biggest research institutes!” Hashirama was saying excitedly. Oh, great. Madara’s dark, smouldering gaze turned to him, his pierced eyebrow arching. Urghhh</p>
<p>“Really?” the Uchiha drawled, his voice way too low and purring to be casual. Hashirama, the blessedly oblivious lump, never noticed. </p>
<p>“He’s already been offered the job,” his brother said proudly, beaming at his little brother. “All he has to do is get a passing grade on his project and he’s good to go! He’ll be making history, Maddy!” </p>
<p>“Don’t call me that,” Madara said distractedly, giving Tobirama a thoughtful look. “So, what are you going to be then? A scientist or something?” </p>
<p>“Or something,” Tobirama agreed, looking away, but not before seeing Madara’s lip quirk up into a smirk. Wow, he had been so….well, blustering just a few hours ago. And now? Now Tobirama was the one trying to keep calm under a heavy stare. </p>
<p>“What kind, exactly?” Madara pressed. “There’s a lot of different kinds of scientists out there. What’s your focus? Astrology, biology, chemistry, physics, geography, so forth and so forth…” </p>
<p>“Medicine,” Tobirama said flatly, finally lifting his eyes to meet his gaze. “I’ll be working in a medical research institute.” </p>
<p>“Finding cures to cancer and whatnot?” </p>
<p>“Something like that.” He wrapped his fingers around his glass, lifting it to his lips and taking a large swallow. He didn’t miss how Madara’s eyes tracked the movement of his throat. </p>
<p>“Well, good for you, then,” he said finally, nodding and sitting back. Tobirama looked away again. He didn’t want to be caught staring like an idiot. </p>
<p>“Don’t you have a brother?”  he blurted out, just to say something. “Izuna, right?” Madara’s eyes immediately brightened, and he smiled, just a little. </p>
<p>“I do, indeed. Izuna is an international dressage champion.” There was a definite hint of pride to his voice. </p>
<p>“What’s dressage?” he asked, unfamiliar with the term. Madara gave him a look of such indignance that he almost laughed. Almost. </p>
<p>“To put it in its simplest terms, it’s kinda like a dance,” Hashirama butt in, and Madara snorted. </p>
<p>“That seems like an oversimplification,” he sniffed, stirring his drink. Hashirama laughed, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. </p>
<p>“Ah, well. Tobirama really doesn’t know anything about that kind of stuff, so…Simple terms.” </p>
<p>“Tch. Makes sense.” Madara leaned back in his seat, lifting one hand to press under his hair and rolling his head to the sides. His neck cracked audibly, and he sighed in relief. Just then, Hashirama’s phone binged, loudly, repetitively. </p>
<p>“Oh, man,” the Senju whined, digging it out of his pocket, swiping to answer. “Hiruzen, hey, what’s up? Oh. Ohhhhh. Okay. When? Like, NOW now? Okay, okay. Yeah. Prep the rooms? Great. See you soon.” </p>
<p>He disconnected the call with an apologetic look. “Sorry, but I’m afraid it’s an emergency,” he said helplessly. “Dog got hit by a car, owners bringing it in right away, and-”</p>
<p>“Hey, don’t apologize,” Madara said, waving a hand. “Go, do your thing. Text me in the morning, maybe we can have brunch or something, yeah?” Hashirama predictably brightened. </p>
<p>“That’s a great idea, Madara! Let’s do that, definitely.” He paused in the middle of standing up. “Wait...mhm. Tobirama are you okay to call for a ride back home, or…?” </p>
<p>Ah. Tobirama seized his chance. “Why don’t I take the car, and bring Madara back home, too?” he said, finishing his drink. “That way the both of us don’t need to spend the money, and plus, you know how I don’t like it when other people drive…” </p>
<p>“Ah, right! Sure, okay. It’ll be easy to find a cab, it’s not that late yet.” Hashirama glanced at his watch, pulling out his phone again. “Okay, but I really should go.” He dug out the car keys, and tossed them to his brother. “Okay, see you tomorrow!” </p>
<p>With that, Hashirama was off. “Does that happen a lot?” Madara asked, idly sipping his drink. Tobirama huffed a dry laugh. </p>
<p>“Yup. Hashirama often offers to be the on call vet, so it’s not uncommon for him to get called out at unholy hours.” Madara chuckled. </p>
<p>“That sounds like him,” he said with amused fondness. “Anyways. What got you into medical research?” Tobirama raised an eyebrow, and Madara stared right back, expectant. Well, if he really wanted to know….</p>
<p>The conversation, much to his surprise, took off from there, and they ended up spending a few more hours at the bar, talking about anything and everything. The mood was mostly light, and every once in a while one of them threw in some playful flirty words here and there. At one point, as Tobirama was complaining about a professor of his, he felt the distinctive nudge of a foot against his inner thigh. He trailed off, glancing down to see the tip of Madara’s boot tapping against his leg, propped up on the bench. He raised an eyebrow at Madara, feeling a flash of heat. </p>
<p>“Want to get outta here?” the other asked quietly, his dark eyes hooded. In response, Tobirama shoved Madara’s foot back to the floor, grabbing the keys and standing. Madara’s eyes gleamed as he stood as well. Tobirama resisted the urge to grab his wrist and drag him out faster. </p>
<p>They paid for their drinks, and made their way to the parking lot. As they approached Hashirama’s car, his need for another taste overcame his logic. He stopped, spun around, and grabbed Madara’s wrist, yanking him forward and turning them both to press Madara against the car's passenger door. </p>
<p>Without giving the other a chance to comment, he dove down, pressing his lips firmly, demandingly, against the others. Madara just made a pleased sound, hands fisting in the front of his shirt, dragging him closer and returning it with just as much enthusiasm. Tobirama’s hands dropped to his hips, then boldly wrapped around, wiggling between the car and his body and grabbing his ass. </p>
<p>Madara made a quiet sound when he did, biting his lip in response, and Tobirama groaned, roughly groping at him, admiring the soft firmness of the muscles under his palms. Madara shuddered, just a little, but enough that he felt it. The heat continued to pool, and he felt himself starting to get a little tighter in his pants. Ah….Couldn’t go too far. They were in public...</p>
<p>Reluctantly, he pulled away, licking away the small strand of saliva between their lips. “Address?” he said hoarsely. Madara blinked at him, sighing when Tobirama stepped back, fumbling with the keys and unlocking the door. </p>
<p>“763 Calio Way,” he said, and Tobirama nodded. He was familiar with the neighbourhood. The moment they were sitting and the vehicle was running and he was about to put it in gear, Madara leaned over with a mischievous grin, his hand pressing down on the obvious bulge in his pants. “Oho, a little excited aren’t we?” he teased, and Tobirama groaned, thumping his head down on the steering wheel when Madara’s fingers started to trace the outline of his dick. </p>
<p>“If you want to make it back to your place alive, you’ll stop that,” he said firmly. Madara smirked, just a little, and pulled away again. Tobirama immediately missed his touch, his presence. But as much as he wanted that amazing feeling again, he also knew he was far more likely to crash the car than anything else. </p>
<p>He put the car in drive before Madara could get anymore ideas, pulling away from the bar and turning onto the street. Madara played around with the radio as they drove, crossing his legs. Tobirama almost wanted to just crash the car. It’d be a quicker way to die than this torture. The street lights caught and illuminated the skin revealed in the rips of his jeans, and he tried not to look, focussing his attention on the road. But that didn’t help his throat going a little dryer everytime he glanced out the corner of his eye. </p>
<p>It was only a 40 minute drive or so, and Tobirama tapped his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel, tempted to just say screw it and start speeding like a madman. “Hey,” Madara said suddenly, turning to him. “If you’re into medical research and whatnot, you must kinda know your stuff, right?” </p>
<p>Tobirama glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. “Well, yes, obviously. Why?” </p>
<p>“You know all those medical drama shows out there? Are they at all accurate?” </p>
<p>“Hell no!” Tobirama exclaimed. If there was one thing that could guaranteed make him mad, it was medical inaccuracies portrayed in movies and TV. Madara just grinned back, looking amused. </p>
<p>“Oh? And why is that?” Tobirama snorted. </p>
<p>“Watch a single episode of any show with me and I’ll point out the flaws,” he promised. </p>
<p>“I’ll take you up on it. Ah, we’re here!” </p>
<p>They parked in front of the modern little Airbnb. It was small, but obviously recently built or updated. Madara dug around in his jacket pockets, pulling out a ring of keys and pausing before the door, squinting in the dim light and cursing as he hunted down the right one. </p>
<p>Seeing the chance to mess with him a little, as payback, Tobirama crept up behind him, arms looping around his waist and pressing himself against his chest. “Having a little trouble?” he drawled, purposefully breathing down the Uchiha’s neck, lips brushing over his skin just under his ear. </p>
<p>He heard Madara inhale shakily, and grinned victoriously. “No,” he mumbled. But his hands were shaking, just a little, as he struggled with the keys. Tobirama snickered, moving his hands around a bit more to slide up under his shirt, caressing his stomach, pressing feather light kisses against his neck. </p>
<p>“Sure…” Madara made a little sound of victory when he finally found the right key, stabbing it into the lock and twisting. When it clicked, he yanked it out, pushing the door open, and practically leaped inside. Tobirama followed, amused. </p>
<p>The door had barely shut behind him when his back was pressed against it and Madara was kissing him, rough and demanding, one hand threading into his hair and yanking his head down to his level. He let out a quiet groan, hands settling once more on the smaller man's hips, pulling him closer. He tasted faintly of the lemoney drink he had had earlier, and he licked into his mouth, accepting the invitation of open lips to chase after the taste, delighting in the quiet sound Madara made. </p>
<p>Then, just as suddenly, Madara pulled back. “So, wait, what do you think of Grey’s Anatomy then?” </p>
<p>Tobirama gave him an incredulous look. His confusion, however, soon faded into his usual irritation whenever someone mentioned that horrid show. “The worst of the worst,” he declared. Madara grinned. </p>
<p>“I’ll get the popcorn?” </p>
<p>Tobirama considered the offer. On one hand, he’d very much like to just...continue where they were. But on the other hand, bitching about a dumb show sounded just as nice. Maybe he’d even impress his soon to be lover a bit with his vast array of knowledge. “Okay,” he said finally. Madara grinned sharply. </p>
<p>“Great. Go make yourself comfortable.” He nudged Tobirama to what he assumed was the living room, and disappeared down the hall to what he assumed was the kitchen. After a moment of exploration, he found his destination, a well furnished living room with a large, comfortable looking sectional and an enormous TV. </p>
<p>Hunting down the remote, he plopped down on the couch, pulling up Netflix, signing in, and finding an episode he KNEW was absolutely horrible. Of course he had binged Greys Anatomy. If only to be mad about it. </p>
<p>A few minutes later, Madara breezed back into the room, making himself comfortable on the left arm chaise, right beside Tobirama. He held out the bowl of popcorn he was holding, and Tobirama grabbed a handful, pressing play and leaning back into the cushions. </p>
<p>Hardly 5 minutes in, and he was angrily muttering about the lack of proper procedure for a code blue, and Madara was cackling like a deranged witch. Then he was bitching about the very improper gown up process. “It’s mask first, and then the gloves, idiots,” he grumbled, drawing another snicker from Madara. </p>
<p>“And why is that, oh knowledgeable one?” </p>
<p>“Cross contamination, obviously.” He peeked over at the now empty bowl of popcorn, setting it on the coffee table and slouching further onto the couch, devoting his irritated attention to the show. Another inaccuracy led to another 5 minute rant about how residents and interns didn’t actually have that much power as the show seemed and how 48 hour shifts weren’t a thing because negligence was causing patient harm and other issues. </p>
<p>As he was wrapping up his spiel, he glanced over at Madara. The Uchiha was staring at him, an oddly….fond...look in his dark eyes. Tobirama stared back for just a second or two. Then, he was leaning in, one hand lifting to cup Madara’s cheek, pressing his lips against his again. </p>
<p>The dark haired man sighed softly into the kiss, turning his head to allow better access, responding in kind. Tobirama’s hand lowered to the side of his neck, drawing him a bit closer, getting more adventurous, adding his tongue messily to the kiss and inhaling Madara’s breathy sound. </p>
<p>His hand dropped again, under Madara’s shirt and up again, fondling his chest, tweaking his nipples. Madara moaned, ever so softly, pressing further into him. Tobirama groped and squeezed for a few minutes, very much enjoying the other’s subtle squirms and shakes. Then, he pulled his hand out, lowering it to palm at his dick through those tight, delightful jeans. </p>
<p>Madara groaned, pulling away from their messy makeout to press his lips against Tobirama’s neck. Wasting no time, Tobirama insistently tugged at the front of his pants, managing to get the button and the zipper undone, reaching down into his pants andfeeling  pleasantly surprised when he found nothing else obstructing him from his goal. He playfully trailed the back of his knuckle along his hardening length, and Madara whined, hips automatically rocking forward, seeking more contact. </p>
<p>Harsh pain bloomed up the side of his neck, and he moaned, closing his eyes when Madara apologetically sucked and licked over the bite. “Fuck…” he breathed, working a little faster. His unoccupied hand grabbed Madara’s chin, pulling his face back towards him so he could resume their makeout session. </p>
<p>Madara shifted a little, and then he felt those clever fingers dancing up his thigh, taking their time in reaching their destination. Madara lazily groped at his erection, and Tobirama growled, grabbing Madara a little firmer in return and grinning into his mouth at the loud moan he couldn’t hold back. </p>
<p>Finally, reluctantly, he pulled his hand out of Madara’s jeans, very much distracted by Madara’s own fingers finally, FINALLY delving under his waistband to tease his dick at last, warm fingers dancing over heated skin. He dropped one hand to Madara’s knee, pulling insistently and dragging him closer. </p>
<p>Taking the hint, Madara pulled his own hand back, straightening a bit, and then swinging his leg over Tobirama, straddling his lap. Fingers fisted into his hair, and the Uchiha was leaned down to kiss again. Tobirama growled, pulling away after a minute, grabbing his belt loops and tugging. “Off,” he insisted, tugging harder and nearly unbalancing Madara, who snickered. </p>
<p>“So demanding,” he teased, sliding back a bit and wiggling out of his jeans. “Whatever happened to the shy little boy I once knew?” </p>
<p>“He grew up,” Tobirama replied distantly, watching Madara intently as he finally squirmed free and tossed his jeans aside. As soon as they were out of the way, Madara was tugging at his pants. Tobirama helpfully lifted his hips, and Madara worked them down and out of the way. The moment he was free of them, Tobirama grabbed Madaa, hauling him back, and all but ripping his shirt up and off. </p>
<p>“Hey now,” Madara grumbled, but issued no further complaint. Instead, his clever little fingers swiftly undid the buttons on Tobirama’s shirt, finally wrenching the annoying piece of clothing off and away. </p>
<p>Tobirama urged him closer, groaning when their lengths touched. Madara hissed, his expression contorting into something a little more...interesting. He pressed his lips against the front of his throat, breathing out harshly and watching the goosebumps rise. “Lube?” he muttered, mouthing lazily along his neck. </p>
<p>Madara grunted softly, pulling away with reluctance and leaning over to the coffee table, yanking open one of the drawers and fumbling inside it. Tobirama admired the lines of his muscles, watching them flex and relax and flex again as Madara pulled himself back, bottle of lube in hand. </p>
<p>“Someone was prepared,” he mused, taking the bottle and uncapping it. Still keeping eye contact, he poured a generous amount over his fingers. Madara coloured very obviously, and looked away. </p>
<p>“Yeah, well…” He cut himself off with a disdainful huff, and Tobirama smirked, amused. </p>
<p>“Come here,” he ordered, his unlubed hand tapping Madara’s chin before grabbing it, guiding Madara’s face to his and kissing firmly, purposefully. Using his tongue to distract him, Tobirama reached behind him, circling his entrance with one finger. Either Madara didn’t notice, or choose not to react. </p>
<p>Snorting, Tobirama pressed his finger inside, groaning when he felt the snug heat and imagining what it’d feel like around another piece of himself. Madara made a long, breathy sound that might have been a moan, pulling back and tilting his face up to the ceiling. Tobirama leaned up with him, finally deciding to leave a mark on his neck like he’d been wanting to. </p>
<p>Madara hissed, squirming, and he hurriedly added another finger, enjoying the way Madara arched and wiggled into his touch. Amused, he scissored and swirled his fingers around, stretching him out. Just for good measure, he added a third finger, shuffling his wrist from side to side and watching how Madara’s eyes rolled back and he moaned. </p>
<p>“Hurry up already,” he grumbled, rocking back into his fingers. Tobirama tsked softly, purposefully quirking and bending his fingers, thoroughly enjoying the muffled keen it brought with it. </p>
<p>“Aren’t you the one who agreed to ride me?” he whispered, low and husky in Madara’s ear. Madara stilled, just a little. “Care to get on with it?” </p>
<p>“You’re even more annoying than Hashirama,” Madara groaned, hunting down the bottle of lube and opening it again. </p>
<p>“Don’t talk about my brother when we’re about to fuck,” Tobirama complained, twisting his fingers again just to see Madara jerk and quiver. </p>
<p>“I do what I want,” he snorted back, squeezing some lube onto his hand, and coating Tobirama’s painfully hard dick with it. He absolutely took longer than he had to, fingers dancing up and down, smearing the lube all over. In punishment, Tobirama firmly jabbed his fingers in deeper, causing Madara to jerk and moan, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. </p>
<p>“Out, out,” he said impatiently, pushing at Tobirama’s arm. Rolling his eyes, Tobirama pulled his fingers out, and Madara dropped one leg, so his foot was on the floor. He pushed himself up, guiding Tobirama into him as he slowly, slowly, sank down. </p>
<p>Tobirama growled, biting his own lip harshly when he was finally, fully seated in that tight, pleasing warmth. Madara’s hands pressed firmly against his chest, and he inhaled and exalted shakily. “Get going,” he muttered after a time, hands lifting to grip Madara’s hips. </p>
<p>Madara gave him a disdainful look, both hands reaching up to tighten his ponytail. “So impatient,” he mocked. Before Tobirama could give him a scratching glare or a biting insult, Madara lifted himself up, slowly, wiggling from side to side just a little and making Tobirama groan. Then, he rocked back down hard, gasping harshly at the pleasure it brought. </p>
<p>Tobirama’s hands curled tightly around him, guiding him, assisting him to lift up and slam back down. But Madara was the one fully in control, deciding on the pace and the intensity. And did he ever like it fast and high. </p>
<p>Tobirama had been right, before. That little furrow of concentration had indeed formed between his eyebrows as he bounced up and down, fingers digging into the skin of his chest and belly, surely leaving marks and bruises. </p>
<p>The Uchiha hissed and moaned, and Tobirama got a little bolder, tightening his hold, starting to take control. Madara let him, perhaps because he didn’t realize it yet. He bucked up at the same time as Madara rocked down, and the resulting pleasure had Madara keening loudly, dark eyes glazing, nails digging in harshly. </p>
<p>Then he bent down, snagging one of Tobirama’s nipples between his teeth and biting, hard. Tobirama groaned, rocking up into him as Madara grinded down, swiveling his hips from side to side, clenching and loosening and rocking up and down so perfectly. </p>
<p>It was unbearable, and he bucked up again, using his firm stance with his feet on the ground to help him thrust up and into Madara. The other whined, long and loud, a shudder overtaking his body, and Tobirama thrust up again, and again. </p>
<p>Madara seemed just as determined to give, and he clenched down hard around Tobirama, one hand and his mouth working at the same time, enveloping his nipples, biting and twisting them. Tobirama groaned shakily, and his fingers curled tighter around him. Madara’s hands moved, pressing his shoulder into the couch, repositioning them just a little. </p>
<p>Then, he paused, seemingly satisfied with their new orientation on the couch. He grabbed Tobirama’s wrists, pressing them into the cushions on either side of his head. “I’m going to ride you until you scream,” he drawled, leaning down and trailing his lips, his tongue, up Tobirama’s neck and to his mouth. </p>
<p>Tobirama hummed, pleased at his promise. “Well, hurry on with it then. Or I’ll whip you into shape.” </p>
<p>Madara’s eyes glinted, a mix of annoyance and amusement. </p>
<p>The inaccurate medical drama played on behind them, disregarded.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>There were so many puns I could have used. So many</p>
<p>Greys Anatomy: 'nough said</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is something I had an idea for forever and I'm at a little bit of a block on my MadaTobi series rn so this is occupying me in the meantime. </p><p>This is my excuse to RANT about when people write about 'white horses'. No. NO. White horses don't exist. Prince charming on a white horse? Incorrect. It's prince charming on a GREY horse. As a rider myself, this makes me ANGRYYYYY</p></blockquote></div></div>
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